TreeSpeak
by Magda Jan Brown
Summary: DAINE and NUMAIR, sitting in a TREE...Having a very peculiar conversation about jewellery. A one-shot fragment, two months after the barrier has fallen in ROTG. Angsty fluff galore!


**A/N:** I couldn't help it! this little piece of wickedness came to me while I was mulling over my much-more angsty 'Sanctuary' update. Although, having said that, even my fluff is a little angsty! There's nothing that can be done with me, I am 'angst' to the core.

Anyway, this is about as subtle as a sledgehammer! I don't need my English degree to get to the bottom of Numair's 'analogy'. Never mind, fanfic needn't always be subtle, right? There's a nice bit of feminism in here if you look for it. I always imagine Numair as a liberal sort...

**Please REVIEW! You'll make me a happy, feminist munchkin:-)**

* * *

**Tree-Speak**

Numair extricated a particularly prickly piece of bark from his hair and grimaced. "Remind me why we're up here, again?"

Daine grinned as she shuffled carefully along the branch, trying to find a comfortable perch. "In the hope of seeing a tree-sprite, of course." She paused. "Though with your grunting and groaning, I think you've successfully managed to scare away _all_ the creatures around here, not just the shy ones."

Had he not been so indelicately balanced, Numair might have tossed his head in disdain. As it was, he could just about manage a sour glance in his student's direction. "A man of my size is not designed for climbing trees, Veralidaine." He glanced at the branch beneath him dubiously. "Even a seemingly solid and attractive oak such as this."

Daine smiled. He only used her full name like that when she had irked him something rotten. "Only think how nice it is to be away from the Palace," she wheedled, blue-grey eyes dancing. "Mayhap I'm wrong but I don't think we'll be found up here. Wouldn't it be nice one to have one afternoon without Immortals to battle or royalty to protect?"

Numair sighed loudly, in mock-acquiescence, but inside he more than agreed with her. In the scattered half-light that made its way through the leaves, he examined her face. Behind her stalwart exterior he knew she was tired, as tired as he was.

Were those the bruises and dark circles of sleepless nights under her eyes? Probably. Since the barrier had fallen, at midwinter, they had had two months of madness, barely a moment to spare between them.

Jonathan had granted them one day of freedom and rest before, undoubtedly, all hell would break loose again, and all thoughts of watching sprites or climbing trees like errant schoolchildren would be the stuff of fantasy.

As if she could read his mind, Daine glanced over at him and proffered a tired smile.

_But_ _Gods_,_ tiredness and all she is still so beautiful._ Numair blinked, hard, and tried to push that thought to the back of his mind where it belonged, _far far_ away.

One day of freedom and rest, and his magelet had decided to spend it up a tree. He could only smile, briefly, and then agree.

* * *

They sat a while in silence. Finally, Daine sighed, stretching her back a little to ease the cramp. "I don't see anything, Numair. And I can't sense anything…_spritish_ with my magic. I fear we may have climbed up here unnecessarily."

"Not at all," Numair drawled. "And have you miss the sight of Tortall's Black Robe Mage hoisting his body so elegantly up the tree trunk? I couldn't possibly have deprived you of _that_ particular image."

Daine grinned. "Don't worry. It wasn't as inelegant as your riding."

Numair raised dark, lively eyes heavenward. "I aim to please," he remarked dryly. "And if not please, then at least mildly entertain."

The girl laughed softly at that. She raised her own eyes to the sky, and the impending dusk. Around them, it was beginning to cool. "So what do you plan on doing with your evening of freedom?" she asked.

"A long hot bath and the third volume of Ferisalt's _Moralia Majora_ for me, I think." He sighed pleasurably at the thought. His legs were starting to cramp and the bark behind him was itching his back. "And you?"

Was it the dappled light, or was that a blush on her pale cheeks? Numair narrowed his eyes, trying to examine her more closely, but she had turned her face slightly away, her expression now unreadable.

"Actually, Perin invited me to a…a dance." She smiled wryly. "It seems that Court goes on with its usual entertaining and pleasantries when we are off slaying spridrens and the like. But I thought just this once I might get a chance to go along and enjoy it myself."

Numair's breath caught in his throat. He was glad she had turned her face away and could not see the tension in his jaw as he gritted her teeth. _Perin. Perin the young man who had been sniffing around her these last weeks?_

Finally she turned to him, and though the shadows prevented him from seeing her face clearly, it seemed as if she were waiting for a response. "I see," he managed finally, struggling to keep his voice even. "How nice."

He thought he saw her full lips widen into a smile. "I don't suppose you can be persuaded to join us?"

Numair struggled momentarily between two equally disturbing propositions. One: leave her in that boy's clutches all evening while he fumed in his room, thinking about her? Or two: accompany them both and have to watch as Daine danced, flirted, hell, even _kissed_ somebody else?

He swallowed, hard. Just because _he_ hadn't kissed anybody lately didn't mean _she _wasn't allowed to. Still, he didn't have to _watch_. "No," he said finally, carefully. "I don't suppose I _can_ be persuaded."

"Pity," she sighed. "It may be the last fun we have in a while, Numair."

Her voice seemed sad. Numair glanced at her out of the corner of dark, shadowed eyes. Daine sat back, resignedly it seemed, against a large branch, playing idly with her badgers claw. Or at least he _thought_ it was her badger's claw…

Curious, Numair used his Gift to sharpen his sight momentarily to examine more closely. Illuminated in his eyes, her slender fingers moved around a single silver pendant, a circle, which was tucked neatly behind the claw.

Numair's breath caught in a hiss against his teeth. _Goddess. A pregnancy charm? _

His magelet? Already?

The comment was out before he could stop himself. "That's a nice necklace," he said, voice very pleasant.

He thought he saw Daine start slightly, and give him a sharp look, but he couldn't be sure. But he _felt_ it as her eyes roamed over his face, as if searching for his secrets, and he tried to keep the blush from his cheeks. In the growing dusk, perhaps, she wouldn't notice.

"Thank you," she said eventually. "It was a…present."

"Oh, really?" As she looked at him he kept his face impressively blank, his voice mild. _Idiot_, he thought. And then: _Who on earth gave her a pregnancy charm?! Was it Perin? That forward little bastard, I'll strangle him myself. Better yet…_Numair found himself suddenly inspired by the deciduous tree beneath him. But Perin wasn't manly enough to warrant an oak…perhaps a weedy little gymnosperm, a palm tree far, far away…

Daine's voice brought him from his reverie. "Alanna gave it to me," she said simply. "At midwinter."

"Oh." Well, at least it hadn't been Perin. But perhaps Alanna was Daine's confidante. Perhaps the Lioness had known that she had need of it…He knew he ought to be glad that she had someone to talk to about those sorts of things; she had no mother, after all. And he wasn't sure _what_ he would have done if she had come to _him_ about such issues…Locked her in a convent cell and thrown away the key, said a nasty voice in the back of his mind. Numair sighed, trying to banish the jealousy.

Finally he cleared his throat, and stole a glance at her. "You know, I was quite young when I was given my first piece of jewellery."

Numair bit his lip and rolled his eyes heavenward, thinking: _Mithros, what have I gotten myself into…?_

Daine was surprised for a moment, and then pictured the opulent designs she had seen adorning the Carthaki nobles. She could imagine the kind of thing a teenage Numair might have delighted in, all sparkly gold and ostentatious, shiny jewels. She giggled.

"I can imagine," she teased him.

For a moment he was silent. "No you can't," he told her finally, voice almost stern. "Anyway…" he shook his head. "I was fourteen I think, perhaps fifteen. It was a very beautiful…necklace."

"I see…" Actually, she didn't. Daine examined Numair curiously. What was going on? This was a very strange talk they seemed to be having, and his voice seemed peculiar. Numair had talked to her about a lot of things over the years, but not jewellery.

"Anyway, as much as I _enjoyed_ wearing the necklace, I was only a boy. How could I know its value? I had…borrowed it from a friend and returned it the next day without much thought. Perhaps I didn't truly _appreciate_ the experience of wearing it."

_Uh-oh. _Why did she have a feeling they were no longer talking about jewellery? Daine's hand slid up her chest and a finger tucked behind her claw to pull at the pregnancy charm. Was _that_ what they were very studiously _not_-talking about? She had thought he hadn't known what it was, hadn't seen it clearly enough, but now…Daine blushed, glad it would be hidden in the darkness.

She returned her thoughts to his 'story.' _Borrowed from a friend? _She shook her head. She had known her teacher was quite the lothario, but still, did he mean to be telling her this?

Clearly Numair intended to string out this dreadful analogy further. Daine squirmed uncomfortably on her perch as he continued. "It's not that I don't think young men or women should _wear_ jewellery," he added quickly.

Daine raised an eyebrow. "Both men and women?" she asked, keeping her voice vague.

Numair coughed. "Absolutely! Please, let me clarify. I know some people think that young women, particularly noble ones, ought not…adorn themselves, when the young men strut around the court as bejewelled as they like. But I have always firmly believed that _both_ men and women should be able to wear whatever jewellery they like without being put under scrutiny."

_Indeed, _Daine thought, wryly. _I wonder what he thinks this is, if it's not a roundabout kind of scrutiny? _

"But as you said," she interjected, voice dry. "They think that about _noble_ girls. Commoners like me…"

Daine paused, gathering the threads of his analogy so that she could match his with her own. _Two can play this game, Master Salmalín!_

"Well, Commoners like me aren't…expected to wear _expensive_ jewels at all, are we? So surely nobody pays much attention if we wear whatever small tokens of jewellery we come across, even if we do…come across them younger than most."

_But it's not like I even _am_ younger than most! _Daine thought to herself furiously. _And what am I doing sitting here, defending myself against something I haven't even done! _

Beside her, Numair swallowed hard and looked away. Was that how she saw herself? he wondered, sadly. A commoner's brat, her body not worth as much because she hadn't been born to a noble line….? Surely not.

"Well, perhaps age isn't really the issue," he replied finally, when he had managed to calm the rapid beating of his heart, hard against his chest.

"Then pray tell me, Numair. What _is_ the issue here?"

Was that gentle teasing in her voice? He wasn't sure. If so, she was making this damned hard on him. And he was only trying to look after her!

Numair thought for a moment, hand absentmindedly playing with the black ear-drop he sometimes wore. He began again carefully. "Don't misunderstand me, Daine. I'm sure you'll be offered lots of very _beautiful_ jewellery in your life, and I think you should have the pick of it." He blushed. "And I certainly don't think women should have to restrict themselves to a single necklace, not if there's different kinds of jewellery they would like to try…"

Daine giggled. She almost wanted to stop him, give him a hug and put him out of his misery. Honestly, he really did get fair protective of her sometimes. It was quite sweet. But then, this was also quite amusing. He had gotten himself knee-deep into this sticky analogy, and she would let him drag _himself_ out of it.

"Anyway…" Daine rolled her eyes as he rambled on. Was he not finished yet? Clearly not. But his voice softened.

"I only want you to be happy Daine," Numair finished quietly.

Daine looked at him, his face forlorn, turned away from her, his broad frame held rigid against the tree trunk as if held the weight of the world on his shoulders. Something made her heart lurch, and she wasn't sure why. "I know you do, Numair," she replied softly. "And I thank you for it, truly I do. Even if you do show it in _odd_ ways, sometimes."

Numair's lips twitched into a reluctant smile. "Such is my manner, I'm afraid."

Daine reached over and felt for his hand in the dark. When her fingers stumbled over the back of his palm, surprisingly hot given the impending darkness and the chill it brought, she found his fingers and squeezed them, hesitantly, reassuringly.

Something about the intimacy of the moment made them both stop. Daine blushed in the dark. Numair squirmed on his seat, and then pulled his hand from under hers, mumbling something vague about keeping his balance.

* * *

It was almost dark, and they had been sitting in silence for a while. Daine wondered briefly why Numair hadn't suggested returning to the Palace yet; she knew he didn't like the cold. And what was she still doing here? Perin would be waiting for her.

Daine let her legs swing back and forward below the branch. She watched their motion for a moment before turning her face to his. In the shadows she could still see the profile of his long, elegant nose, stubborn chin, his full mouth…She blinked, and the image cleared.

"Numair?" She licked her lips, gingerly.

His voice was warm, hesitant. "Yes, magelet?"

"What…" Daine bit her lip for a moment, tasting blood, and then set it free. He had started this, now she would finish it. "What is the favourite piece of jewellery you've worn?" she asked finally.

There was silence, and Daine wished she could see his face, and then was relieved she couldn't. _What am I afraid of seeing there?_

Numair cleared his throat. When he spoke, his voice was strangely husky, as if it held the promise of tears, and something more.

"Well, there is one sapphire pendant I have…"

"Yes?" She sounded breathless. "When…when did you wear it then…In Carthak?"

Numair smiled into the dark, which couldn't see or judge him. "No. I haven't worn it yet, actually."

"Oh." She sounded puzzled. "But…will you?"

"Oh yes, I hope so." The hope bled into his voice, deepening it momentarily.

"When?"

"I don't know magelet. When the time is right, I suppose."

Numair couldn't help it; he turned to look at Daine, taking in the image of her, half-hidden in the shadows of the tree, her pale face illuminated in flashes by the moonlight through the leaves. Her thick, smoky curls hung around her face in wild abandon. She looked so beautiful, like a goddess, he realised with a start, and could not look away.

"Oh!" His eyes moved to her full lips, startled into a rounded O of surprise. And then to her eyes, which were suddenly clear to him even in this dying light. They seemed to dance.

"Did you see it, then, after all?"

"What?" His mind was reeling with the image of her. "I'm sorry, what did you…"

"The tree sprite!" she cut in eagerly. Her lips rounded to a smile. "Only, your face…you looked as if you just saw something magical."

Numair's heart stopped for a moment in his chest. "Yes, magelet," he replied finally. "I did."

* * *


End file.
